Populist Elegance

By William E. Scholz

"Populist Elegance" grapples with reincarnation, love, despair, God, and Country in William E. Scholz's first volume of poetic works. What does "Populist Elegance" mean? It's the simple life with rhinestone finishing and the seeking of beauty in the crowd. We all seek elegance amidst lives that no matter our race, creed, religion, or wealth are, for the most part, lived similar to one another.

"Populist Elegance" was written during, and inspired by, the coronavirus pandemic while on a drive through Will's hometown of Erie, Pennsylvania. Will has been both trying to leave and trying to return to Erie, PA for as long as he can remember, searching for elegance amidst the worker and in the mirror, searching for himself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tablo Publishing
• Release date: Jul 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781649691200

Book preview

The Hipster Politician

The hipster politician

Makes long, eloquent statements

About nothing and nobody.

Their words as polished as chrome,

But what do they say?

And who do they speak for?

They don't speak for me.

The hipster politician

Says the words that I want to hear,

But don't get your grammar wrong,

Because he'll fire someone over the mistake.

His eyes are that trained to the details and

Nuances of his own appearance.

His eyes don't miss a beat,

When it could cost him a vote or handshake.

The hipster politician is the grammar police

Of a society that doesn't really give a shit

About grammar correctedness, style, or form.

But the hipster politician wears his wordplays

Like a badge of legitimacy and his long, winding

Statements like a symbol of strength and valor

In a time without war.

The Grammar Police are coming for your Twitter timeline.

They are grading you; you are all in grammar school now,

For your signal strength.

As if strength was a rarely used adjective,

Subjective verb disagreement, an active or

Passive statement.

The Grammar Police doesn't judge what matters,

The resonance of your device,

The quality of your character,

Or the rhythms and your rhyme.

Throw the hipster politicians to the curb,

Let them drink together in pubs,

Let the revolutionaries have the salon,

And while everyone is drinking coffee, tea, or beer,

Let the real people of this world

Storm the Bastille

And take back their Government

From politicians that do nothing,

From politicians with empty promises,

From politicians unable to command attention

With their empty rhetoric, pristine grammar, and

Hollow souls.

From My Penpal On Sacrifice

Under the knife,

Feels like a bad habit,

Like tearing the skin around my fingernails.

Like the self-disgust of a pornography addiction.

Like my deepest darkest secret on permanent display,

At The National Portrait Gallery.

How can I go down in history,

Really go down,

If I don't look the part?

Beauty in other women

Flashes before my eyes,

And I'm disgusted with myself.

I notice their eye sockets,

Deep set and provocative,

Could my cheeks be any higher?

I notice their midsection,

Flat and trim,

I'm flabby like dough,

My skin is too thick,

But for a moment,

If you could offer me yours,

I'd feel like I own it,

That toned middle,

Which arouses my desire.

I notice long legs,

And there's no fixing that,

But high heels,

Are a much healthier alt.,

Then carving into my ankles,

And ripping out my fibula.

I've had more plastic surgery,

Than I'm comfortable to admit,

And after every time,

I keep running back to you,

The feminine form, my flower,

Who gives me that which I cannot buy.

Does that make me gay?

The nose,

There's no fixing the nose,

And it’s always the first thing that I see,

Along with everything else,

But because of cartilage,

I can get a nose